Acclaimed 1942 film banned in Germany until after W.W. II

Usage examples of casablanca.

He opened it for the fat customs inspector at the Casablanca airport, who had to have its function explained to him, who held it between two dainty lingers like a dead sea thing, and called his compatriots over for a look.

All I knew for sure is that it was the biggest one I had ever seen, and took up about twice as much space as the Banque de Casablanca, which was right across the street from it.

He stopped at a counter to drink a bottle of beer, and a pleasant lassitude fell over him, the first time he had not felt keyed-up since the Casablanca airport.

He got a couple of hundred dollars on his credit cards, at an outrageous rate of exchange, and got the first train back to Casablanca and the first plane back to the United States.

Miami is everything Newsweek says it is, but if I read one more story calling it America's Casablanca, I'm going to start a petition drive.

You could be Ingrid Bergman in Casablanca, or Laura Dern in Jurassic Park, you're easily beautiful enough.

Videotapes, everything from Casablanca to Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure.

She portrayed a series of love interests attached to cynical antiheroes, like Margo Colby in Blue Light and Lisa in Casablanca.

We could be in Casablanca tomorrow morning in time to catch the day train to Marrakech.

F And so it came about that at Casablanca, the United States and Britain agreed on a major intensification of the strategic bomber offensive, and on giving top priority to the Manhattan Project, as the A-bomb program was now officially called.

Furthermore, it was Memorial Day weekend when Jupiter moved into the Casablanca.

I can look back now and say I've made that run more times than I can count, in everything from an Indiaman to a Middle Passage slaver, but this was not like any common voyage - why, we picnicked on Moroccan beaches, made excursions to desert ruins beyond Casablanca, were carried on camels with veiled drivers, strolled in Berber market-places, watched fire-dancers under the massive walls of old corsair castles, saw wild tribesmen run their horse races, took coffee with turbaned, white-bearded governors, and even bathed in warm blue water lapping on miles and miles of empty silver sand with palms nodding in the breeze - and every evening there was the luxury .

They wanted a cautious landing in the rough Atlantic surf at Casablanca, on the outer bulge of Africa, connected to the key terrain only by a single rickety railroad line.

Here I was, living in a luxury hotel, racing around a half-Latin city in a toy car that looked like a cockroach and sounded like a jet fighter, sneaking down alleys and humping on the beach, scavenging for food in shark-infested waters, hounded by mobs yelling in a foreign tongue -- and the whole thing was taking place in quaint old Spanish Puerto Rico, where everybody spent American dollars and drove American cars and sat around roulette wheels pretending they were in Casablanca.

They were able to dig up some fairly high-tech video equipment somewhere around Casablanca a few months ago, and miles of blank videotape.